A Slow Slide
by Fayth3
Summary: You don't really notice them at first, but there starts to be a slow slide into awareness.
1. Chapter 1

Yup, new fandom. First multi-part addition to new fandom. Will by Mal/ River eventually. But might sneak some Jayne/River moments in cuz they are just so darned cute!

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A slow slide**

**Part 1- Zoë knows.**

It was Zoë who noticed it first. She hadn't exactly been herself since Wash died, but that didn't mean that her perception had dwindled any, and definitely not when it came to Mal. He was the only family that she had now and she was taking that seriously.

After Miranda and the events on that ee da tuo da bien planet she'd tried to keep her eye to her captain more often, knowing that he would be feeling the harsh realities of what he'd seen and what he'd done.

So it was she who noticed first that, whenever he walked into a room, his eyes searched for little River.

Once they'd found her, it was like he relaxed—not enough so that anyone else would notice, maybe he didn't even notice himself, but for someone who had dragged his bloody, sweaty ass for miles, she was far more intimately acquainted with his body than she wanted to be.

And it seemed that the captain was becoming more aware of River than he wanted to be and Zoë found that all kinds of funny.

The captain had always held onto his emotions and covered his feelings far better than anyone ever had a right to and still be standing when the dust settled. Some had suggested that he didn't have emotions like regular people but that was wrong.

Zoë knew what it was like to stand with him and watch him openly grieve for the thousands under his command who would never make it home. She had watched tears fall, unchecked and unbidden from his eyes as he looked on the corpse of a child he had once ordered into battle and she had watched him lose a faith so strong it had kept him standing when long since he shoulda fallen.

Sure enough the captain had feelings and they were bleeding through for the girl who could read minds and hear voices.

Zoë was actually surprised that the little reader hadn't noticed it yet; hadn't noticed that the captain watched over her in a less than captainy way. But maybe the girl—woman was still coming to terms with her part on Miranda and wasn't focusing on the way that Mal looked to her like she was his salvation. Of course, neither had her overprotective brother who had threatened Mal more than once over his sister's safety. It wouldn't be her safety he'd be looking to if the captain got what he wanted.

Which he usually did. Once he'd realised that he wanted it.

It would surely make for some interesting times.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2- **

It had been almost six months since Miranda, and life had moved on slowly if not smoothly.

Kaylee and Simon had finally gone to the captain and told him that they wanted to set down dirt-side somewhere and get hitched.

Mal had been somewhat affronted that little Kaylee didn't want to get hitched on his ship. He thought that she loved Serenity like he did and to not want to have her vows in her metal arms was bewildering.

When he had mentioned it to her, though, Kaylee had lit herself up like a super-nova and said she didn't think he'd want Serenity to be decked with bows, ribbons, frills and lace, and she'd be tickled shiny if he wanted to marry 'em, so if'n he didn't mind…

It had taken some frantic back-peddling for Mal to get himself out of decking Serenity out like a blancmange and himself out of being pseudo Preacher, but Kaylee had agreed that they'd have to go dirt-side for her to find a really shiny dress and might as well get hitched down there while they were at it.

'Sides, they were less likely to get attacked whilst they were on the ground—not much less, mind, but slight.

There had been much merriment and Mal was relieved to see a smile on Zoë's face as they headed for Little Vegas, the wedding capital of the verse.

It was the place where, eight years ago, Zoë and Wash had gotten themselves hand-tied and the place conjured up good memories for the stalwart woman who still held her grief in her heart like a precious gem.

Jayne had muttered about landing on the place where all the tasty was taken, but Kaylee's infectious smiles softened him and he agreed to be at the ceremony.

And it had been lovely.

The yards of silk and the cake that didn't taste like protein bars and the way Kaylee found the perfect dress that made her look like a beautiful fairy meringue.

Simon managed to look stuffy in all new ways until Kaylee tried to feed him wedding cake and everyone had laughed as he tried to get chocolate frosting off his sparkly vest.

It had been a good day and they had danced well into the night with the others looking on or, in Jayne's case, sliding under the table with enough drink to sink a small elephant.

"You not drinking, sir?" Zoë had asked and Mal smiled.

"Last time I got drunk I woke up with a wife. Here on Little Vegas, it's like tempting fate with a rare steak. I'll stick to juice."

She'd laughed in understanding and his heart lightened to see her enjoying life again.

Then he looked up to see River dancing by herself under the stars, twirling and tapping her feet, waving her arms and swaying in the breeze and the smile faded a little on his face.

Zoë looked between the two and a shifty look crossed her face before she smoothed it away. "Look at little River there, all growed up."

Mal started, giving his first mate an incredulous look. "She's a kid."

"If you say so, sir." Zoë's tone clearly meant that she thought anything but.

"She's seventeen."

"Eighteen," Zoë corrected, "And, if you don't mind my saying so, growed up all in a hurry when she was with those tyen-sah duh uh-muo. She may have only eighteen years of life in that slim little body, but she got a hell of a lot in the brain. I'd say she's older'n all of us." She waited a beat. "Well, maybe not you."

He glared at her. "Thank you, Zoë."

"I'm not saying you're too old, sir. I'm sure you have many exciting years of crime left—"

"_Thank_ you, Zoë."

She smothered a grin. "Just saying she ain't so young is all."

Mal's jaw tightened. "Don't you have an elsewhere to be?"

Zoë walked away before she allowed the burgeoning smile to erupt. Oh that was all kinds of fun.

Mal let his eyes drift back to where River was dancing among the other loving couples, like a sprite passing on her youth and vitality to those they held.

Of course, none of the dancing couples realised that the sweet girl in their midst could tear them apart with her hands and wreak enough devastation to frighten even the coldest blooded Alliance operative.

Those who smiled at the innocence inherent in her steps didn't realise that death walked among them.

At least that's what Mal tried to tell himself; that she was death.

In reality, River was more alive than he was; she lived in the moment because, for all she knew, it would be her last.

The government had taken the childish assurance that she would live forever, that she was indestructible and despite the crippling pain of that knowledge, she danced on.

Mal respected that of her; that she had seen and heard the worst that the human race had to offer ands he still kept on walking and talking and breathing and dancing.

She was the strongest woman that he knew and using her age as a reason for his distance was an excuse that was fast becoming foolish.

But it was a kind of foolish he was holding onto for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3-**

It started in the second week of Kaylee and Simon's honeymoon. They'd decided to go on a trip to see Kaylee's parents and then take in the inner rim planets on a tour that wouldn't end in death—probably.

Of course Simon had only done this with the express proviso that the captain look after River. Actually he'd been all fixed to drag River on his honeymoon with him and Kaylee had, tenuously, agreed to have her sister-in-law along. So it had fallen to River to put her delicate, bare feet down.

She was not going to be a third wheel and ruin Kaylee's honeymoon, nor was she going to listen to Simon and Kaylee make sex noises. She loved Serenity and was staying right here.

Of course, her version was slightly less coherent and contained a random referral to tea cups in the pantry, but it boiled down to the same thing.

Simon had argued and fought and it was only the droop of Kaylee's face when he suggested cancelling for a while that decided him. Ok, they'd go, but Mal had to take damn good care of River.

Which he'd fully intended to do, even without the order implicit in Simon's tone.

He had intended to. Really.

But they'd been lucky enough to land a really great job with a huge payload and River had insisted on coming along and no matter how Mal had insisted that she stay behind, the girl just was not listening to him.

"No!" he said and threw her backpack out of the mule and onto the cargo bay floor. "You're staying with the ship and that's final."

"Sixty per cent chance they'll try to take the ship with me on it," she'd said, looking patronisingly at him. "Eighty-three point seven two chance they won't try to double-deal you with me along. The math adds up."

"Aw hell," Jayne said as he saw Mal weakening. "We don't want Crazy to come along with us."

River looked at him over her shoulder. "Forty percent chance Jayne gets shot."

"Okay, she can come," he amended hastily, ignoring the smirk on her face.

"That'd be good and fine 'ceptin you don't have a say here," Mal said indignantly. "I say she stays with the ship."

River's lips turned down and her face lost the shine that made her light up from the inside. Mal turned away.

"No, no sad face, darlin'. It don't work on the mean old cap'n!"

"She wants to be of use, not broken, empty. But they push her in a box and won't let her be played with. Broken toy. Doll with bald hair and no eyes."

"You're not a broken toy," Zoë comforted and touched River's arm. "The Captain is just worried about you being safe is all."

"Safer with eyes."

"She has a point," Jayne said, obviously touched by the fact that he had a forty percent chance of being shot. "Easier to keep an eye on the kwong-juh duh kid if she's with us."

"Who died and made you the captain?" Mal said, trying desperately to ignore the heart-broken look on her face, the way her lips bowed into a pretty pout and the feelings that told him he'd be better off taking her… taking her _with_ them. "Cuz I ain't dead and while I'm alive we follow my orders."

She half-turned to walk away and he caved.

"And I say she's coming with us," he said as if that had been his plan all along. "Zoë, you hold the ship?"

"Yes, sir. Captain." Zoë was considerate enough to hold back her smirk, which Mal appreciated.

But the gleeful look on River's face as she climbed into the mule was far more reward enough.

To say that things didn't go smoothly was all sorts of wrong.

It started off with the buyer being half an hour late and bringing a whole cadre of Alliance assholes with him.

It was only River's yelled warning of "Duck" that stopped both Jayne and Mal from being riddled with holes and left out for the Reavers.

They raced down the corridors, firing at those behind them in a barrage of bullets and laser fire, trying to find a way out that wasn't blocked by the Alliance.

Mal dragged River into a small alcove, cradling her against him and let Jayne take the opposite side of the wall as cover.

"Great plan' a mine to bring you along," he groused, pulling her closer, away from the bullets… that would be coming any minute. "Ways out?"

River closed her eyes and listened, blocking out the frantic beating of Mal's heart, louder and stronger since they'd dived out of sight. She blocked out the inner cussing that Jayne was doing and tried to feel down to where the soldiers were waiting.

"Can't get that way," she murmured inclining her head the way they were going.

"Jen dao Mei!" he spat. "So where?"

"Got bodies in the halls, bodies in the basement. No bodies in the attic."

"I ain't gonna be no gorram body!" Jayne muttered. "I don't wanna get shot neither."

"Up!" River said and stared at the ceiling. Mal followed her gaze to the ceiling panels his brain filling him in on her plan as surely as if she'd said it out loud with little diagrams and bullet points.

"Okay, darlin' you get us outta here." He reached up and slammed the panel with his gun, the sound smothered by the hail of gunfire from the far end of the hall.

Jayne swore and dodged out, thrusting Vera into the limelight as he tried to hold them back, his face set in a mask of fury.

Mal grabbed River and hoisted her up into the ceiling, his large hands spanning her tiny waist. She rolled to the side and held out her hand for Mal to follow. He threw the gun into her ready hands, instructing her to lay down cover fire as he swung himself up into the confined space.

As he spun he yelled out for Jayne to follow, wondering if the huge man would fit into the small enclosure, if he'd actually come along, he was so intent on the fight at hand.

Jayne, however, was more than fine about abandoning the futile fight and swung his precious gun over his shoulder before grabbing onto the edge of the ceiling and pulling.

But before his legs were clear, an Alliance guard hurtled around the opposite corner and, seeing that their quarry were about to escape, grabbed hold of Jayne's leather tooled boots and tried to pull him back. His legs waved and kicked, trying to find some purchase and knock the man loose and it was impossible for River to shoot around the huge bulk of his torso that fit the ceiling tile.

"Gorram it!" Mal cursed as he grabbed the back of Jayne's shirt and hauled. A lucky kick dislodged the guard and Jayne hoisted himself up.

But his gun caught on the edge and near yanked off his shoulder before falling to the ground.

"Vera!" he yelled, despair in his voice.

"It's a gun," Mal hissed as the rest of the Alliance bolted around the corner and swarmed towards them, "forget it."

Jayne snarled, his hand trying to reach down and grab it. Mal snatched his shirt and yanked.

"Leave it! That's an order!"

He crawled away, expecting Jayne to follow and, after precious seconds, he did.

River looked at the crawling form of Jayne and then down at the discarded weapon.

Her eyes narrowed and she dove for the space in the floor.

"River!" Mal shouted as her feet disappeared. He frantically crawled to the edge of the hole and looked down in time to see her throw a punch at a gun-toting soldier and twist in a kick to the man on the other side. Like the dervish he'd seen on Miranda she gracefully danced backwards, out of the way of a coming fist and grabbed the wrists, yanking the body forward to head-butt them with the elegance of a demented ballerina. One final kick had the man down and River grabbed Vera, bending and throwing herself into the air to land in the ceiling.

"Go!" Mal yelled to Jayne who was watching them both with an odd look on his face and he hurried to obey, ignoring the way the captain practically steamed at his heels.

As they crawled through the ceiling ducts the only sound was the ragged breaths as they tried to listen below to see if anyone was chasing them. The yells and shouts from beneath their feet only made them move faster and they managed to make it to the rooftops without being seen.

In silence.

As they reached the roof and edged out of the crawl-space into daylight, River had smiled sweetly and held Vera out to Jayne who'd taken her without a word.

Mal said nothing, his jaw set and his eyes hard.

He'd grabbed her by the wrist and thrown her into the mule without a sound and piloted the thing back as if the Reavers themselves were after them.

Zoë was waiting in the hold for them to get back and her welcoming smile faded at the thunderous look on Mal's face.

"Problem, sir?"

"Nee ta ma duh tyen-shia suo-yo duh run doh gai si!" he swore as he stormed past her, throwing the grab bag into her arms.

Zoë blinked and looked past him to a recalcitrant River and an oddly silent Jayne.

"Job went well then?"

"Men waiting on us to come in. We're safe now." River smiled and Mal rounded on her.

"We were safe to be crawling away, there was no need for you to jump down and almost get yourself killed!" he roared and even Zoë jumped.

"I'm safe," River said, somewhat indignantly.

"That ain't the point!" Mal snarled. "My orders were to leave it, didn't need you heading off playin' hero. Ain't no room on my boat for dead heroes, dong ma? I made me a promise to your brother and I intend on keeping it!"

"Don't need protecting!" River yelled back and Mal moved until they were practically nose to nose.

"Jien tah-duh guay! When you don't have the gorram sense to leave a gun be and follow orders, you ain't got no right being on the team."

"Trajectory said I was fine," she maintained, her face showing her hurt. "The math added up."

"Where was your damned math when they were coming, huh, River? Why the hell didn't you see 'em coming?"

River reeled back like she'd been slapped and Jayne stepped forwards. "No need for that, Cap'n, girl was just helping out."

Mal threw his hands up in the air and let loose a torrent of Chinese that almost had them blushing. He turned and glared at the scene; Zoë standing to one side, her eyes intent on him. Jayne, of all people, standing between him and the subject of his wrath and, most damning of all, River staring at him with big, bruised eyes and a pale face looking like he'd tortured her favourite pet.

As those eyes started to glisten with unshed tears he felt the worst heel in the verse and opened his mouth to apologise only to have a vision of her lying on the floor gunned down by the Alliance. He gritted his teeth, set his jaw and stormed off.

"Phew," Jayne whistled. "I ain't never seen him that mad afore."

"Not for a while," Zoë agreed. "I'll go see if he's okay."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Jayne turned but River had already vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4-**

River sat in the dining room of the ship and tucked her feet under herself trying not to think.

"_Needs more salt!"_

"No echoes!" she said firmly to the ebbing voices. It was bad enough to hear them now, without thinking on what had been said already. Those words were gone and should be lost.

"_Tastes like crotch."_

It was so hard to block people out and their thoughts spun like cotton sugar, wrapped in molasses so that they stuck to her in thick, sickly treats and the captain had told her that she shouldn't read them because it was rude. Rude like elbows on table and skirts above the knee.

"_Honestly River, can't you walk like a lady? What are we paying good money for? Go find Simon."_

Rude like not saying please and thank you and slapping the kitchen boy because he'd tried to steal a kiss kinda rude. But wasn't it ruder for them to be pushed at her, pushed and yanked and made thin so that they slipped through the cracks and stomped in her head with big old boots.

"_I'm a mean old captain."_

Why was the captain mad at her? She didn't like it when he was cross, his face got red and the colours all went grey. No. Translucent. Like ethereal and not quite right.

_You ain't quite right_.

"Popular theory," she muttered.

"What's that?"

Her head popped up as Jayne entered, his hands behind his back.

"Was talking—" she trailed off and rubber her eyes, smearing tears down her cheeks.

"Echoes of voices past, conversations with food, jangled up in here."

"Huh." Jayne looked confused for a moment and it made River smile ruefully. She pushed her straggling hair away from her face and curled her knees tighter into herself.

Jayne cleared his throat and his arms twitched as he tried to say what he had come to say in the first place.

"You went back for Vera, why'd ya do that?"

"Love," she whispered and his eyes widened comically.

_Her gorram brother's gonna kill me._

River chuckled, hearing his thoughts out loud and in stereo. "You for the gun," she clarified and he relaxed.

"Now I know that."

"Love keeps her in the air, love keeps him flying, love makes her hurt, love keeps them together, love makes her stay away and love keeps you safe." River rubbed her head. "Can't take the sky, can't take the love."

Jayne perched on the edge of the table. "Don't know if I rightly understand what your saying, Crazy, but mama always says that if folks do you a good turn, it ain't nice to flush 'em out the airlock."

River wrinkled her nose. "Your mother said that?"

Jayne thought on what he'd said. "Nah, cap'n said that. Mama'd just take a switch to ma hide if'n I was rude."

"Mine too," River sighed in resignation.

"Had Vera some time," he continued. "She's a Callahan full-bore auto lock. Customized trigger, double-cartridge thorough gauge."

"She's special to you," River nodded. "Keeps you safe."

"So thanks to you I didn't haveta leave her behind. That deserves some thanks to my way of thinkin', Crazy." He shifted and brought his hands out from behind his back. River frowned at the object in his hand and then looked up with confusion.

"Are you gonna spank me?"

"No!" Jayne sputtered and raised the brush. "I used to brush my little sister's hair, and my mama's too, helped 'em ta sleep. Figured what with all the buzzin' in your brain it might help some."

The smile that lit up River's face made him feel all kinds of good and she wriggled forwards, spinning around until her back was presented to him.

He grabbed a hank of hair and started to detangle the cots, working from the bottom up.

River leaned into the touch, liking the way the rhythmic strokes soothed her and the thoughts that had been flying around her head in torrents. She liked sitting here with Jayne, his thoughts weren't too loud and they were simpler than everyone else's. He was clever in his own way and she liked that he didn't feel the need to be something that he wasn't.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift.

>>

Zoë found Mal in the engine room, swearing at the parts that Kaylee had left on the grease slicked floor.

"Damn girl couldn't even clean up!" he muttered as he paced and kicked another metal part across the room. "It's my ship; leastways they could do is keep it shipshape."

Zoë said nothing and let him pace and curse and hit things.

She knew him well enough to see in his tirade what was pure rage and what was something else, and this was deep seated, gut wrenching fear. The captain was scared and she had a notion that she knew why.

When it looked like he was winding down some she hooked her fingers into her belt.

"What did she do?"

Mal swung on his heel and glowered. "What did she do? Nothing! The… the… stupid, kwong-juh duh— gorram it, Zoë!" He bent over and grabbed the engine coil as if trying to brace himself against the emotions that swelled within him.

Zoë waited until he got some semblance of control and was slightly perturbed that it took several moments before he could speak clearly. She was well aware that, since Serenity Valley, he'd been holding his emotions pretty much in check; she'd been doing the same. But it looked like maybe his grip on those rampant feelings was more tenuous than she'd thought.

"We were right and shiny in the ceiling duct," he said slowly, "about to make a nice, clean getaway—for once. Then Jayne drops his piece of shit gun. No one nowhere but a cadre of Alliance under our asses, and getting shot to hell wasn't worth the price of his Vera. I done told him to leave it, knew he'd bitch something fierce but better'n bein' dead to my way of thinking'. Even Jayne knew to leave be, but not River. Oh no, our resident psychic genius decided to risk her gorram life jumping down for the gun."

Just talking about it made him mad again, his palms sweaty against the engine core. He stepped back, away from the valuable parts and swallowed. "She takes out the ruttin' Alliance and about ten years of my life." He shook his head and reached up to rub his forehead, trying to will away the headache that had been threatening since he had seen her dive through the floor. "Then, calm as you please, she jumps back up like all's right in the 'verse."

It was testament to his twisted psyche that he didn't notice Zoë scrutinise him.

She'd seen Malcolm Reynolds in all states and forms, from crazy ass naked drunk to stricken with despair. She'd seen him spitting fury and slash-your wrists depressed. She'd seen faith broken and damned near deaths door.

But she'd never seen him so confused.

It was obvious to every mother's son that he was madder'n a priest in a whorehouse, but the damned thing was that he wasn't even sure _why_ he was mad.

It was clear as the damn stars what it was; but the Captain had the bad misfortune to be a male and that meant all kinds of dumb things twirled about his brain that it'd take a woman to figure out for 'em. But subtle-like.

Zoë was quiet, just watching him. "You're angry because she endangered the mission, sir."

"No!" Mal replied.

"If she'd a been injured, Simon woulda understood. Missions go pear-shape and there was no way you coulda known that."

He gave her a patronising look. "I ain't afraid of Simon, Zoë."

"If she went against your orders then it wasn't your fault she almost got injured, you shouldn't blame yourself."

"I'm not!" he said, affronted. "It wasn't my fault; did I say it was my fault? Because it wasn't my fault."

"So," Zoë selected her words carefully, "you're not mad because she endangered the mission or because you'd promised to protect her or because she has a brother with a scalpel and a power load of drugs." Mal blinked at that. "So what has you madder than a packet-ship full of Reavers?"

"I'm mad 'cause she almost got herself killed!" he yelled.

"So this is about River."

He glared. "Were you not listening?"

"Yes, sir. Were you?" He looked blankly at her. "Jayne's screwed up more times'n I can count and yet you weren't this mad. It's my way of thinking you got feelings for the girl."

Mal opened his mouth and closed it. And again.

Zoë smiled smugly. "Feelings her brother probably wouldn't approve of."

"She's part of my crew," he managed finally.

"Ain't we all? I don't see you hopping mad on my account."

"You ain't injured," he paused, "yet."

"Neither's River. If anyone on this ship can take care of themselves, it's her." Zoë gave him a steady look.

"You know you're fahng-tzong fung-kwong duh jeh." He sputtered and folded his arms against his chest in classic defiance, but Zoë sensed that she had won and allowed herself to be smug at the victory.

"Oh, I got nothin' against the girl, in fact I'm a mite fond of her myself," she inclined her head, "not in the way you are, obviously."

Mal stiffened. "You know I'm thinkin' that this ain't none of your gorram business."

"It's my business if the girl is crying fit to have her heart broke. Enough heartache on the ship already without you making more."

Her cool tone belied the heartache in her own eyes and there was nothing he could say to that and he knew it.

"River was in the wrong, and she knows it. But it's done. Getting mad at her ain't gonna make the feelings go away." Zoë swallowed. "That I know."

And she turned and walked away, leaving Mal with his thoughts.


End file.
